Take me out

Just in case you missed it (because you were too lazy to click through on either of the two links I posted), my new friends Nic and Lace wrote a super-hot post that led to my post the other day, “Take me In.”

I thought that I’d make sure you read it, that you saw how hot it was. Because… well, because it’s so fucking hot. And when I read things that make my cock hard, which is rare, outside of personal correspondence, I like to share it with you. So here it is.

Hey you! Yeah, you. I can see your cock through your jeans. You know why? Because your big belt is pulling your waistband into your hips and stretching the material across your erection. And I fucking love it.

I want you to stand really close to me when you talk to me, so that maybe I brush you with my leg as I reach over to get my drink. And maybe you give me a raised eyebrow as I do, and maybe I deadpan you like, what? Oh, that was your cock? Oops. Was that inappropriate? Do I give a shit?

Belts speak of attention to detail. If you’re wearing a belt with your trousers, we’re probably out somewhere nice, so you’ll be looking your best. You might have picked out this outfit because you know how good it makes you look, and you wanted me to notice. Maybe you dressed yourself with all that restrained care and attention because you were imagining fucking me as you looped your belt through your trousers, and fiddled with your cuffs. Maybe, as you buttoned your shirt, you were thinking of me undoing it. Maybe, when you chose that belt, you were thinking you could put it in my mouth later, to give me something to bite on.

And if we do get down to it, I’ll want you to stand in front of me so I can watch you take your belt off. I want to see your hands sink to your waist, find the buckle and finger it, thoughtfully. I want to watch you slowly pulling it across so that it tightens and then loosens again before the two ends are cast aside, leaving your top button open to me. I want you to stand there like that, in your state of perfect dress except for the untied belt that signals that you are ready and that you want me and you couldn’t give a fuck about where we are and whether it’s appropriate. And if you do, I will pull your button open greedily and slide your trousers off with barely contained hunger so I can get that cock that I’ve been looking at and thinking about all night into my mouth.

Go read their blog. It’s fucking hot. And watch here – and there – for some more “self-perpetuating reblogged interactive smut” in the coming days.